The Delnarion Scroll
by B. J. O'Connor
Summary: Ralthiel, a Ranger of the North is given a scroll in a late night meeting from an unexpected individual. These stories are his adventures.
1. Default Chapter

The Delnarion Scroll By B. J. O'Connor  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
Wine glasses shattered as a drunken man sailed across the table, crashing noisily onto the floor. Nearby, an all-out brawl was forming, with many of the 'Prancing Pony's' patrons arming themselves with shattered glass shards, knives, and a other such items.  
  
Ralthiel stood from his table and moved towards the melee, roughly knocking an oncoming assailant to the floor with a swift elbow to the man's chest. He kneeled at the drunken man and dragged him to his feet. He stared the drunk in the eye, and was greeted with a hazy, drooping eyeball, making an attempt to identify him. However, the stare was not to vacillate Ralthiel, and the drunk was soon ejected from the tavern, landing softly in the mud outside.  
  
The ranger turned, and pulled his long, gray cloak back from his waist. His hand nestled comfortably on the carved hilt of a sword. The image of a roaring dragon, greeting those who would stand in it's way.  
  
Ralthiel was a tall individual, standing at a little over six feet high. His broad shoulders proportionately sat with his lean, slender body, and his legs - toned strongly yet still evenly distributed by his weight. His face was framed with a lightly trimmed beard and moustache, yet his face showed years of wisdom and knowledge, far beyond that which he was willing to reveal.  
  
"Let all who wish to challenge me, do so. And let all who don't to leave!" He called. A handful of men took notice, and moved closer to him. But they soon turned and made their way quickly out of the door, once spotting the crafted sword. The rest of the brawl was dwindling, with many people either being knocked unconscious or returning to their seats. The rotund man behind the counter cowering beneath the bar chuckled nervously to himself at the sound of the ranger's voice. And soon, (after a few punches, kicks and the likes) the Prancing Pony had returned to it's quiet weekday evening. Ralthiel returned to his table, and ran his fingers through his soft, shoulder-length hair. He landed in his seat heavily, which wasn't much, for the thin individual. He called for one of the few barmaids running about to fetch him another drink, before taking a deep breath.  
  
"It must be hard to keep order all over Eriador," a voice said behind him. Ralthiel turned to see the weathered face of an old man leaning over him. The man was dressed in a pale blue cloak and large black boots. His beard was dusty and gray, and in his hand, the limb of an oak tree, used as a walking stick.  
  
Ralthiel chuckled in reply. "I try," he said. He stood to offer the man his chair but the offer was declined with a polite wave of the hand. The old man turned and dragged a low stool to the Ranger's table, and sat down opposite him.  
  
"Ralthiel of the Dunedain," he began. Speaking softly for the words where for Ralthiel's ears only. "My name is Pallando, I am one of the Istari sent to Arda for the purpose of defeating the Necromancer." Ralthiel remained silent, an inquiring look covering his face. "I am afraid I have failed. My efforts where to unite the forces of Men and Elves of the East to combat his forces was uneventful. But I come here in the hope that you may yet bring some hope to the free-people's of the west."  
  
Ralthiel shook his head. "I don't understand," he began. "I have heard of you before, Pallando. Yet it was my belief that you perished in the East when your quest failed. Now you come to me, in these, some of Arda's worst times, to tell me that there is still hope?" The barmaid Ralthiel had requested earlier returned, with a large pint of ale. He took a moment to have a mouthful why she questioned Pallando on his drink-of-choice. Pallando waved the barmaid away, before taking a deep breath before replying.  
  
"Yes, there is always hope. My time here is done, I am leaving Arda. Yet I can't leave without giving you one thing that could turn the fate of all into something more." He removed a parched scroll from his cloak and slid it across the table. Ralthiel slipping the scroll into his cloak, not even looking at it's contents.  
  
"This is the scroll of Delnarion," Pallando continued. "When bathed in water from the sea of Rhun, and exposed to both sunlight and moonlight, you will be able to read it. Contained in it's writings is some powerful elven magic, some of which will prove useful in your war against the Necromancer." Pallando sat back, relaxing a little, and allowing Ralthiel to absorb the full context of what he said.  
  
Ralthiel sat for a moment, and then, without a word, he stood and headed towards the door. Almost making it out before turning to the wizard with a few remaining words.  
  
"Meet me by the gate tomorrow at Sundown, we can talk more then." He said, and moved out into the night. 


	2. Gate at Sundown

CHAPTER ONE  
  
Neither Sunrise or Sundown was to be existent in Bree the next day. The thick, gray covering of cloud loomed overhead, and any chance that the sun had to shine was crushed. Nonetheless, on nightfall, the distinct figure of a old man, leaning on a twisted oak branch could be seen, discussing current events with the gate-keeper. Their voices where hushed, and nearby people making their way home for the night where uninterested in what they had to say. The only sound other than the commotion of citizens making for home were soft, mud-ridden footsteps which moved slowly and steadily, each footstep being firmly grounded before the next one took place. Their owner moved closer to the men, stopping a short distance away. The old man paused for a moment before turning to notice the figure watching them, and he quickly nodded his apologies for the quick egress, and moved towards the man.  
  
"Ralthiel, I'm so glad you came, we have much to discuss," Pallando started. Ralthiel just smiled, and shook his head. "No, my dear wizard, we don't. I have discussed the matter with Gandalf most of today and he has explained the intricacies of the scroll." Pallando looked stunned. Chiefly about the mention of Gandalf and his current whereabouts. However, the Wizard remained upright, and his face showed no sign of a flinch. He gave a soft smile before replying.  
  
"What has dear old Gandalf the Grey told you about the scroll," he said. "I would be interested to know what he has told you. And even more interested in regards to why he is in Bree."  
  
The Ranger smiled before motioning for the Wizard to follow him. He moved up the street, much in the same fashion as he arrived, before stopping at the Prancing Pony and turning to the Wizard.  
  
"I'm in Room 2, I'll be there in little while, I must see to some business at the stables first. And then, we can talk." He said. Pallando remained silent as Ralthiel moved down the narrow alley alongside the Tavern, and into it's adjoining stables.  
  
Later in the evening, the two sat next to the window, looking out over the town as a few drunks stumbled home and about the town. Pallando was the first to speak.  
  
"We need to discuss the matter of the Scroll, Ralthiel," he started. "I need to know what Gandalf has told you in order for me to fill in any blanks." Ralthiel smiled. "From what Gandalf told me, the scroll is from the First-Age, shortly before Melkor was defeated. Anyhow, he said that nobody knows exactly what the Delnarion scroll contains, but it did have something to do with an ancient form of Quenya Magic." Pallando nodded silently to himself as Ralthiel continued.  
  
"I was informed that Delnarion was a form of devilry, though. Something that only Melkor himself dared to use. Something that could have devastating effects on the free-peoples, and then I was told to burn the scroll." The loud whistle of air sucking into Pallando's nostrils filled the room before Ralthiel continued.  
  
"But I didn't."  
  
Pallando chuckled loudly, and put one arm around the Ranger's shoulder. "That's a good lad!" He exclaimed, and continued chuckling. "Now, the only question is, will you reveal the scroll for me? Will you take the scroll to the Sea of Rhun and expose it to both day and night so it can be studied?" He asked. Ralthiel rubbed his nose as he thought it over. "Consider it done," he finally said. Not in an excited tone, rather quiet, and submissive. "I have already arranged my Horse to depart tomorrow morning." He concluded. Pallando continued chuckling into the night. 


End file.
